


Getaway

by Missy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, Chicken Pox, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Vacation, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holt volunteers to babysit Cagney and Lacey while Terry and Sharon are off on a vacation.  And Holt soon comes to regret that decision when he comes down with the chicken pox.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getaway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samalander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalander/gifts).



“Are you sure you don’t mind, sir?” Terry really hopes he doesn’t mind; he can already taste the smoothies and feel the hot rock massages the spa has promised to ply him and Sharon with loosening the muscles in his rock-hard shoulders.

“As I told you earlier, you may call me Raymond,” Holt said, as he bent to address the three occupants of the stroller sitting before him. “Hello Cagney, Lacey, and Ava. You’re enlarging at an expected and healthy rate.” This was accompanied by a broad smile that seemed almost non-robotic.

The girls eyed the older man with suspicion. Maybe it was the sense of skepticism they’d inherited from their mother – that odd distaste she had for Raymond that seemed to be inborn of some kind of inexplicable sense of fear of the or maybe it was just their wise-beyond-their-years ways- but they seemed pretty suspicious of the whole affair. 

“Riigght,” Sharon said, tugging Terry away by the elbow. “Our cell numbers are on the side table back home. If you need us for ANYTHING, please call.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Ray said. “They’re three small, young children. What sort of trouble could they possibly get up to?”

Terry barely managed to bite back a laugh as the elevator door closed.

$$$$$$

The first call came at exactly six am the following day, waking him from a deep sleep. Sharon clutched at his forearm as he reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello,” came Ray’s voice over the line. “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think one of the girls has caught red spotted fever.”

“WHAT?!” he jerked to a sitting position.

“She’s bright red and covered with spots. The doctor keeps telling me it’s a minor illness and I shouldn’t worry, but she scratching away at her arms and I’m starting to run out of lotion.”

“Wait, shouldn’t she be in the hospital?” Terry asked. His death grip on his wife’s limp arm started to loosen.

“He called it chicken pox,” Holt said. “That isn’t what Web MD insists on calling it. I wasn’t sure which term was familiar to you, so I thought I’d use both. I’m supposed to give her oatmeal baths and check her fever and use calamine lotion. Are you telling me the pediatrician is wrong? I wouldn’t be surprised- he forced me to honk his clown nose before examining the children..”

“Ray,” he sighed, letting out a low sound of relief. “It’s just chicken pox. Keep a close eye on the baby and make sure she doesn’t get it – babies get very sick if they’re exposed.”

“Of course. I’ve been keeping her in the nursery and monitoring her at a distance. Apparently there’s nothing a round of Raffi cannot fix.”

“Bless that man,” Terry said. “Terry loves Baby Beluga.”

“I won’t call unless there’s another emergency. Relax and I’ll be sure to let you know what’s happening with daily text bullitans.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, boss.”

“Please. Call me Ray.”

$$$$$$

The phone rang at noon, when Terry and Sharon were in the middle of a high-spirited tennis match. “What’s wrong?” he gasped out, parrying a volley of balls.

“It seems that the children require the Tangled video, but I cannot find it on your laptop.”

“It’s a DVD,” Terry gasped. “It’s under the pile of kids’ movies next to the TV!”

“I see,” Holt said. “Ah yes. Right beside the Wiggles. I have no idea what they are but I appreciate their well-pressed uniforms.”

“Ray,” Terry said, “I’m two inches from winning this doubles game. If you don’t have anything else to say I’m gonna hang the phone up…”

“Very well. Oh, Terry – what should I do if they want more cookies with their milk.”

“Lie and say you drank it all!” Terry said, and dropped his phone in an attempt at volleying the ball across the court.

$$$$$$

The next time the phone rang, Terry and Sharon were having an intimate and quiet dinner outside of the resort – the place served French food and the wine was expensive enough to make Terry wonder if he’d have enough on him to afford a tip. 

“Terry,” Holt grumbled. “I seem to have come down with the chicken pox. Both girls are currently using me as a flotation device. I believe that the oatmeal my plaster is trying to communicate with me. Permission to request back-up from my husband.”

“I assumed that you were with Kevin!” Terry jumped out of bed, automatically trying to protect everyone from a distance.

“He’s been off at a conference in Idaho arguing about the merits of The Iliad. I’ve been hearing watercraft jokes all week. My sides ache from more than these pox. But he returned this morning and has offered to come and assist me wholesale.”

Terry was reaching for his suitcase. “We’ll be on the first flight home.” 

“That’s totally unnecessary. We’re dealing quite well.”

“GO HORSEY!” Cagney yelled.

“NO WATER HORSIE!” Lacey yelled back.

“Children. Don’t fight over me. I am not a horse. I am a vaguely ill human.” 

“WATER HORSIE!” they shouted together.

Holt returned to conversing with Terry. “But please finish off your vacation. I will see you on Saturday.”

Terry only hoped that Holt would be left standing after his daughters go through with him.

$$$$$$

The girls seemed completely healthy when Terry unlocked the door – climbing up and kissing and squeezing him. He couldn’t help but hug back as hard as he could; he loved them so much, and he wanted to show it with every fiber of his being. Sharon grabbed them up to spend a little private time, and Terry went in search of Holt.

He found his captain caked in calamine lotion, lying in a dirty teeshirt and jeans on the bed. “Are you all right, Ray?” Terry asked.

He nodded. “My pustules are beginning to dry, and my appetite is returning. Kevin will be returning with chicken soup soon. Your children were a joy, and they’re excellent at assisting the ill.” Holt cracked open an eye. “You have a fine family. And I hope you don’t mind if Kevin and I stay with you for one more night. Travel feels impossible.”

“Never, Ray. Never,” Terry said. “Now Terry’s just gonna lie across the foot of the bed and close his eyes and pretend the last couple of days went much more smoothly. Do you mind?”

“Heavens no.”

“Make room.”

Kevin found them like that a few minutes later, snoring, relieved that their travails had met happy endings.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide!


End file.
